


I’d Catch You if You Fall

by gossip



Category: MCU, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Drug Addiction, Multi, Past Infidelity, References to Sexual Situations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 07:12:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17096156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gossip/pseuds/gossip
Summary: Tony Stark is a multi-millionaire music producer, Steve Rogers was walking on a boulevard of broken dreams until his debut album made a break through to the public, just five years. It may have helped Steve’s career that he began a relationship with Tony succeeding the release of his album. Their relationship is a whirlwind to say the least, constantly on and off until it ended six months ago ‘for real’, but the press is hoping for a reconciliation. Nevertheless, Tony begins a relationship with Pepper, his publicist. Following an arrest, Pepper advises Tony to cling on to the only thing that keeps his name clean; his music. Upon encountering a roster of songs obviously written about him, Tony begins to question his ability to live without Steve. Inspired by ‘Without Me’ by Halsey.





	I’d Catch You if You Fall

Cold, biting wind; soothed by a coffee in hand. 

Pepper’s hair is flapping at the force, and Tony doesn’t know to feel about that, he hadn’t felt it before. 

“Have I ever told you, honey, how much I love you?” It was horrid, how harsh is voice it sounded. Tony hadn’t seen sunlight in seventy two hours, and he’d missed it. He’d had a few spats with the law before, being arrested a couple of times, but he never set foot in a cell. 

No, this was a new development. 

The judges were growing tired of seeing his face. There just wasn’t enough time in the day. After all, they were getting shorter. 

And much like all the changes happening around Tony: the sentences, the seasons. These hands around him were new. Tony and Pepper had only officially been together for two months, but became victims of love far before that. They knew everything about each other. The good, the bad, the dirty. And that was why, to Tony, only Pepper could make December warm.

“I love you too, baby.” Pepper with a big back affected by every attribute in the tone Tony was using. While Tony had one hand around her waist, and adjusted his fixture on the coffee cup he had in his other, Pepper rubbed circles into the shielded surface of his back. Then, she patted him on his back - one, two, three - times. “Get in the car, baby.” 

The car ride home was quite in its first quarter, Tony relieving his phone from the ziploc iit was placed in when he made admission to the prison. 

Photos were taken from the fishnet gates of the jail, and while Tony knew that was a given — sure of his lifestyle now at his twentieth year of living it; it would still sting to the core every time there was negative press. 

At a red light, when the car was stationary, Pepper caught a glimpse of Tony, undoubtedly distressed, and got the message at the heart, what was going on. 

“Tony.” Pepper placed one hand on his knee, and retained the other on the wheel, failing to let her vision leave the road (Tony had already made the mistake). “You’ce been through enough. You haven’t seen day break in three days.”

Tony had met three days out of the ninety he was sentenced to. Before his hearing, his lawyer promised Tony that’d he’d only be spending thirty days in the ‘hell hole’, if any, for driving under the influence. That was before he found out that Tony refused to take a indicator test. That was before he found out Tony resisted arrest. Because Tony didn’t tell him the whole truth. Tony never did, to any body. 

His bail was set at a pristine four hundred thousand, and Pepper’s pockets, fat with cash, were able to get the papers filed, and Tony out of jail in less than a week as light work.  
“I’m gonna go broke in three days, if I keep this up.” His roar: rough and ragged. Tony was looking directly out the windshield. A basket of remorse, feeling much like butterflies, placed carefully at the base of his stomach. 

“Tony,” Pepper said once more. “I know this is hard. I know you feel you’re at the end of your tether. I know you want to get in your bed, or in a coffin. But if you want this to stop, for yourself, Eazy is the only way out of this mess.”

The light flashed green, and the car continued on. 

This ‘Eazy’ Pepper was referring to, was Eazy Records. This is the label that Tony’s father, Howard Stark, made his name under. When Howard passed away, however (ironically, in a fatal car crash) Tony refused to carry that bag on his back, preferring a much more soundless, subtle stay at the product of his father’s toils. Tony had more of a passion for the practical, anyway. 

Sirens as the police passes by.  
The cockrel cuckoos.  
Tony’s digital clock reads six. 

“I think you should march up there, before your pride takes a beating. When you make your music, the people will listen. When you make your money, the people will defend. We will, they will, say this was all a stunt. We’ll call this a day.”

The damage? Controlled. 

Pepper was a woman of wise words, and they shon through in her better moments. This was one of them, and, then; Tony began to ask himself, if he’d ever been so lucky before. 

And when Tony asked a question, Tony got answers. 

Fast forward five days, settled once again in his house (alone), Tony picked up his mobile and called a number all too familiar, a number that was never shy when Tony wanted and needed business. 

“Eazy?” Vivienne at reception: a sweet, seventy-year-old darling. She had a crush on Tony, he was certain of it. 

“Tony!” That dear, old excitement.

Nor fake, nor fabricated. 

If Vivienne could still feel joy at her ripe old age, why had Tony seemed to lose his grip on it in his twenties? 

“Viv. I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.” Blood rushed to his cheeks. He heard Viv coo at the other end of the line. That’s what Tony adored, to be somebody’s baby. “Think you could squeeze me in with Mrs. Maximoff in, like, ten?”

“Tony-“

“Viv?” He used that sweet, smooth talker voice ‘that killed all the ladies!’ back in the nineties. Apparently, it was enough to knock the granny panties of off Vivienne. 

“Thirty minutes is the next slot, Tony. And if you be a good boy for me, I’ll share with you my buttercreams!” Tony grinned in her graces. 

Thirty minutes later, decked out in suit and tie, Tony tapped his foot against the solid vinyl floors of the reception hall, sucking on saccharine buttercream sweets. 

“Right this way, Sir.” 

Considering their most recent stint, Tony felt that he and Mrs. Maximoff were on a first name basis; because when they last met, Wanda called his name several times in a row. 

But - apparently not - because as soon as Tony even began to say her real name,Wanda, Mrs. Maximoff stopped him in his tracks. 

“Tony, I want to let you know you have limited time here.”

Tony chuckled, not believing word she said. Was this about the night they’d spent together? Tony said he’d call her back. He didn’t call her back. 

“Why? Was my last presentation disappointing?” 

Wanda mused across the space of her office. “By no means, Tony.” She placed both of her hands on her table, and leaned forward. 

Tony looked onward to a sight of wonders, on either side of Wanda’s cross pendant. This wonder, Tony lived and breathed only a year ago. 

“You’ve been made redundant, Tony.” his facetious grin disappeared quickly. “You haven’t called us at Eazy, you haven’t called me, in a year. We have a new producer on our line so, out with the old. You have one album left, unless you wanna extend your contract?” Wanda spilled, suggestively. 

“I have a girlfriend, Wanda.” Tony sighed, because temptation was one thing Tony was learning to resist. 

“And?” Wanda smiled. “Last time you had a boyfriend.” 

Tony raised his eyebrows. It was true. 

“You have limited choices, Mr. Stark. Wilson’s picked up quite a couple projects this year. And, it’s a rarity for artists to have one producer on an entire record-“

“I wouldn’t have to do it alone.”

“Tony, it’s not an industry secret that you are an addict. Civil blood makes civil hands unclean, have you heard that before? You ask any producer to work on a project with you right now, you get a resounding no.” 

Wanda walked back to her drawer and released twenty discs from her capture. “These are starting stage projects. Tony, this isn’t about you and me. It’s about you. I know why you’re here. I know why you’re here now, and why not a year ago. Make this easy for yourself and put your heart into it. The public eat up a sob story.”

Tony’s closed his eyes, and they clenched for a second, as if he never wanted to open them again. 

Wanda sniggered. Finger running over one disc coloured in red, white and blue. She reached down to her Louis V bag, and threw her pink jacket on, proceeding to escort Tony out of her office, discs still on her desk. 

She closed the door shut. 

“I suppose I know who you’ll choose. The chemistry already there. I remember you having a knack for that. Steve? Was that his name?”


End file.
